When he reached the alehouse, he found - wonder of wonders - Gwyn standing outside, staring at the small estuary where the stream poured out across the beach into the sea. The tide was now right out and the vessels were high and dry, tilted over slightly on their flat keels. He realised from the low water that he had been with Hilda much longer than he had anticipated. 'We could easily get across the ford at Teignmouth,' said his officer. 'But we'll not get back again! By the time you reach Stoke and have a decent talk to your kin there, the tide will be in full flood on the return journey. We'd never reach Exeter before curfew.' There was no argument with this, as it would take too long to go up the Teign on the other bank to the first bridge and then find the inland road back to the city. Resignedly, John went with Gwyn to get their horses and soon they were back on the road. This time they avoided Kenton and went over the marshes to the ferry, where they and their horses were carried across the Exe to Topsham on what was little better than a large raft.
